. . for a human.”
“The Empire is making its presence felt more and more out here in the Rim,” Jiliac said. “There was that massacre on that humanoid-inhabited world …. ” “Mantooine in the Atrivis Sector,” Jabba said. “Since then there has been another, Aunt. Two weeks ago citizens of Tyshapahl staged a peaceful demonstration against the Empire and its taxation.
The Sector Moff sent ships from the nearby Imperial garrison. The Imperial vessels hovered over the crowd with their ships on repulsors while the commander demanded that they disperse. When they did not, he signaled his ships, and each vessel activated their engines. Most of the crowd was summarily incinerated.”
Jiliac shook her massive head. “Palpatine’s forces could use a few lessons in subtlety from our people, Nephew. Such a waste of resources! Far better to have landed, then herded them all into ships to be sold as slaves. That way the Empire could have rid themselves of the dissidents, and made a profit at the same time.”
“The Emperor should bring you to Imperial Center to advise him, Aunt,” Jabba said, half-joking, but it occurred to him that he’d get a lot more done if he didn’t have to deal with and around Jiliac each day.
The baby Hutt wriggled over in front of him, and he glared at it. The mindless little creature gurgled at him, burped, then spit up.
Revolting! Jabba thought, recoiling from the noxious pool of spreading liquid.
Jiliac summoned a cleaning droid and wiped the infant’s mouth. “Don’t even suggest such a thing, Jabba,” she said, sounding faintly horrified. “You know how Palpatine treats nonhumans. His aversion to nonhumans is so strong that he does not even recognize Hutts as a superior species!”
“True,” Jabba said. “Shortsighted of him. But he is in authority, and we must deal with that. So far we have been able to buy protection from too close scrutiny by the Empire. It is expensive, but worth it.”
“Agreed,” Jiliac said. “The only reason he left us alone after the battle of Nar Shaddaa was that the Council voted to voluntarily double the amount of taxes we pay to the Empire. Nal Hutta has fifty times the wealth of most planets, and our wealth buys us a certain amount of protection. Not to mention the bribes we pay to the new Moff, and to some of the Imperial Senators and highranking officers.”
The cleaning droid had finished its efforts, and the floor gleamed again.
Hutts kept their floors scrupulously clean and, if they were uncarpeted, highly polished. It was easier to glide around on them that way.
“They say that the renegade Senator, Mon Mothma, has convinced three large resistance groups to ally. They signed a document they’re calling the Corellian Treaty,” Jabba said. “It is possible that a widespread rebellion may be in the offing. And Aunt,” Jabba waved his datapad, “in war, there is profit to be made. We might be able to recoup our losses.”
“Those so-called Rebels have no chance against the might of the Empire,” Jiliac scoffed. “It would be foolish for us to take sides.”
“Oh, I was not suggesting that, Aunt,” Jabba said hastily, scandalized by the suggestionˇ “But there are times when profits could be made from aiding one side against the other. No permanent alliance, of course.”
“Better to stay out of galactic politics altogether, mark my words, Jabba.” Jiliac was holding her baby, bouncing it fondly. Good way to make it upchuck again, Jabba thought cynically.
Sure enough, the baby Hutt did just that. Fortunately, the cleaning droid was still within call.
“Aunt …” Jabba said, hesitantly, “since times are becoming so ˇ .
.
complicated, perhaps you might consider sending the baby to the communal nursery for each day? Then it would be easier to concentrate on our business. The child is well able to spend long periods outside your pouch.
Besides, they have surrogate pouch-mothers at the nursery.”
Jiliac reared up, tail twitching, her expression one of shocked indignation. “Nephew! I am surprised that you would even suggest such a thing! In a year, perhaps, I might consider that, but now, my little one needs me continually.”
“It was just a suggestion,” Jabba said, in as conciliatory a manner as he could manage. “In order to bring Desilijic’s finances back to the level they were before Moff Shild’s destructive raid on Nar Shaddaa, a great deal more time and effort will be needed. I am putting in copious amounts of time these days.”
“Ho-HO!” Jiliac hooted. “And just yesterday you spent half the afternoon watching that new slave-girl cavort all over your throne room, while your new band of jizz-wailers played for you!”